


a thousand secrets

by enamuko



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Prince Loki of Jotunheim AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:45:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enamuko/pseuds/enamuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stone calls to stone. That doesn't mean Ronan appreciates Loki's visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand secrets

**Author's Note:**

> A promised gift for someone who had to endure a very hard day when they would rather not. AU, assumes a) Laufey didn't die in Thor and b) Loki was not imprisoned in Thor 2 as a result.

 

Sometimes whispers pass from star to star until they have crossed entire galaxies. Universes do not keep secrets from each other. When one asks the right questions, they can find out whatever they might need to know.

 Prince Loki of Jotunheim and the voices of the universe had not been on the best of terms as of late, but it would still speak to him from time to time. All it required was a situation where the sharing of information was mutually beneficial. The universe did not hold to the rigid moral code that those who lived in it held. Even traitors and murderers had their uses. The universe was full of them.

 And some were worse than others.

 

* * *

 

You couldn't truly understand the power of an infinity stone until you held it in your hand, drank in the thrum of its power, wielded it the same way the universe had done when the singularities burst with the power of a million dying stars. Loki understood that power all too well.

 From the icy throne of a dying kingdom the traitor-prince watched the universe unfold with the idle disinterest of a tyrant. He had changed since his fall from Odin's grace, since he had led an army under Thanos' name to claim his prize when he had absolutely no intention of handing it over at him at the end of the days. He hadn't had the opportunity to stab Thanos in the back regardless. Thor and his mortal companions had reclaimed the Tesseract and thrown him in chains and only Laufey's intervention had spared him a lifetime in the dungeons of Asgard.

 Before him the universe spilled the secrets it was willing to share. Once he had seen them freely from the highest throne in all the realms. Now he only caught the tail-end of the conversations the universe had with others, no longer privy to the familiarity he had once had with the other realms. Jotunheim was his cradle, but it was also his prison.

 Once an infinity stone touched a person, it left a mark on their soul. Stone called to stone. Thanos had not taught him much but he had taught him that. And when the universe told Loki that one who was unworthy wielded one of the stones in a mad thirst for power that made his own folly look like a child's tantrum, he knew it told the truth. The Tesseract's sister cried for freedom.

 And who was he to deny it that?

 

* * *

 

Ronan wore the title of Accuser well, but an accuser was not all that he was. He was judge, and jury, and executioner. With the Orb in his possession, no longer did he have to toil to bring his righteous judgement. Now he held it in his hand-- figuratively, of course. To hold it in his hand would be a quick suicide. But he wielded it with the power of a god.

 Once someone had questioned his sanity. Had told him that wielding a stone that held the power to erase all life was the vision of a mad man, and that defying Thanos was madder still. That had happened only once. The screams of the soldier as the orb had torn him apart from inside had served as a lesson to all. His word would not be questioned, his command would be followed swiftly and to the letter.

 The halls of the Dark Aster had always been cold and impersonal but there was something even more chilling about them. He stalked the halls with no aim, the glow of the infinity stone lighting his way. Those few that milled about quickly disappeared into other rooms as he moved through the ship. Ronan was not simply to be avoided; the luckiest of his employees had never seen him face-to-face.

 It was Nebula's face that greeted him when he entered his inner sanctum, cocked in that bird-like fashion that he had quickly figured out was so distinctly _her_. Large black eyes watched him as he moved across the room. There was no fear in those eyes and though that had once annoyed him he had come to tolerate and perhaps even appreciate the fact. She offered him the respect he was due and not an ounce more. It was.. _refreshing_ , in a way, to be treated like only his accomplishments mattered and his reputation counted for nothing.

 “Leave me,” he ordered, speaking to everyone but her. The other guards filed out with all due haste, none of them willing to incur Ronan's wrath over something so trivial. In a matter of moments only she remained, staring at him with eyes that seemed to absorb all light around them. “Nebula, tell me what you know of this infinity stone.”

 Oh, everyone knew the stories that were little more than legend. How infinity stones were infinitely powerful objects. But few people had ever laid eyes on them and fewer still truly understood their abilities. Thanos was among that few. Though Ronan understood quite well that Nebula had been given to his service to ensure he didn't try to stab the titan in the back— something that had obviously not worked quite as well as he had anticipated— he also knew that her information was reliable. He was quite certain that if Thanos had any idea how much his “daughter” truly knew, he would have never let her out of his sight. Likely he wouldn't have even let her live.

 “Each of the six infinity stones has as much power as the legends say and each is unique,” she explained. “The stone you have is the stone of power. Only the worthy can wield them without succumbing to their power.”

 She stood up with a fluidity and grace that few living beings were capable of and stood before him, cocking her head. He had not known her to approach him so casually but she was perhaps the only person he would permit such an act of familiarity even in private.

 “And that is why you must rely on that silly little stick of yours, isn't it? You pathetic little man.”

 Ronan actually did a double-take at that. It looked so comically out of place on the face of the serious zealot that someone who did not know better might have laughed. Nebula did not laugh, however. She simply smiled. That was the first sign that something was wrong. When Nebula smiled it was a quirk of the lip, a twitch of one corner of her mouth, quite often an expression only seen on her face when she was prepared to slit the throat of whoever was looking at her. She did not give wide grins. There was not nearly enough mirth in her for that.

 The second sign that something was wrong was when Nebula's hand shot up to press a knife to his throat. The real Nebula would have never been stupid enough to try and kill him in such a way. She would have been much more subtle. She would have failed just the same, but she would have been more subtle.

 He reached out to grab the false Nebula's wrist. He would never admit to the hesitation he had when his hand passed directly through her arm, leaving a shimmering trail as he dispersed the illusion. He would also never admit to the way he staggered when a long rod— some sort of fighting stave— caught him upside the head as he turned to search for the true enemy.

 His opponent did indeed wear Nebula's form, though it rapidly melted away. If he mistook the attacker for Terran, it was only for a moment. No one failed to recognize the mad prince of Asgard for long.

 “You made your final mistake in coming here, Asgardian,” he growled. It would have perhaps been more menacing if he had not already been on the floor.

 “Says the man who didn't realize his own assassin was a fake.” Oh, but that grin was _infuriating._ Ronan swung his hammer in the direction of the Asgardian's legs and was only somewhat shocked to find nothing there. He climbed to his feet and swung again. One touch of his weapon would tear him apart from the inside, 'higher being' or not.

 That would have been a comforting thought if a hand hadn't firmly captured his wrist.

 There was pain, but it was quickly replaced by an incredibly horrifying numbness. The hand that held his wrist was as blue as Nebula's, the raised lines painting a map of genealogy in the jotun's skin.

 “You really shouldn't play with such dangerous toys,” he said condescendingly. His other hand closed around the shaft of the hammer and left a trail of frost where it touched. “Let your hand be testament to that. I do hope it heals, fanatics look so much more intimidating when they're in one piece.”

 Oh, if Loki thought Ronan could no longer fight because he was down an arm, he was as crazy as they claimed he was. He aimed to slam a fist into Loki's jaw but once again found only air— and a blade slipping into the seam between the different pieces of his armour, embedded several inches into soft flesh.

 Ronan choked on whatever threat had risen into his throat as the hammer left his grip. He could not remember the last time an opponent had been able to get so close, let alone injure him so severely. But it was the shock setting in from the sudden nerve damage to his hand and arm that made him hesitate more than anything.

 A wide pearly grin set into a face more blue than his own, eyes red as a dying sun, taunted him even as his legs could no longer hold his weight.

 “Don't worry, I'll make sure this gets into the right hands,” he said with a grin just as much in his voice as on his face. “And Ronan? Don't take this personally. It's just business. I couldn't just let someone like you hold onto something as powerful as this, after all.”

 He added insult to injury by twirling the hammer like a child with a new toy as he took several jaunty steps backward. Ronan couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, his eyes were a touch bluer than they had been.

 “Oh, and do send Thanos my regards.”

 “Once he destroys me, Asgardian, he will come for you,” Ronan rasped. Loki simply grinned brighter.

 “Jotun. And I do doubt that,” he said as he twirled the hammer once more. “Not so long as I have this.”

 

* * *

 

The Tesseract called for its sisters. What little of it rested in the mad prince was not enough. It thirsted for the power of its others, its equals. And not for long could its will be denied. The infinity stones would fall into the hands of only one in due time.

 It was simply a question of what hands they would fall into.

 


End file.
